


Transpose

by IsYourH3artTaken



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkward Flirting, F/M, High School, Misunderstandings, Platonic Female/Female Relationships, Sports, Unrequited Crush, Volleyball
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22607176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsYourH3artTaken/pseuds/IsYourH3artTaken
Summary: As a student of Shiratorizawa Academy, you expect a lot in life: crowded dorm rooms, sleepless nights spent studying, and the unpleasant stench of a horse's stable. One thing they never warned me about, though, was receiving a spike to the head from Ushijima Wakatoshi. Ushijima/OC.
Relationships: Ushijima Wakatoshi/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 42
Collections: Haikyuu!!





	1. he blinded me with sportsmanship

I was this close to having a mental breakdown.

Toppled with the weight of after school assignments, extended papers to turn in, wondering if a horse would escape from it's stables and cause another blockade in the street, and the occasional weekly stop to the supermarket to pick up something from Mom's grocery list, a six hour break off campus wasn't enough to get my mind at ease before bed. It wasn't even enough to just sit on the couch and do nothing. I needed some time off. On the weekends, in the comfort of home, I got everything but that.

It was more like a loose leash that gradually tightened by the weekends of burying myself between piles of books or keeping my little brother from tearing his soccer practice clothes. I was the big sister, though, who had to dorm away from home during school nights and that meant having a routine to stick to every time I went back. Most of the time, I felt like shutting myself away in the dusty panels of my closet and forgetting all about about academic expectations.

"Ow! Not so high!"

"You told me to push."

"I didn't mean that hard!"

My best friend, Matsuzaki Itsuko, glared down at me and rubbed the spot at the side of her head that bumped against the window sill. What originally started off as a relaxing walk home for the weekend quickly turned into an ongoing battle for balance when she heard the echoing thumps of a volleyball being hit inside the school gymnasium and scrambled to climb up my back like a human ladder for a better look. The peak of her tongue slithered out from the corner of her mouth as she sat uneasily with her legs on my shoulders, fumbling to open the latches to the highest window possible. The lower one only provided an awkward angle of muscular legs, which wasn't enough to sate her voyeurism, I guess.

"Wait, wait, stop!" She exclaimed all of a sudden, stiffening up like a metal rod. I paused, her shrill tone leaving with a feeling like I'd just got hit with a stun gun. "That's it!" She gushed, cheeks burning bright pink. "There he is! Oh gosh, I wish you could see this, Chihiro-chan! He looks so perfect."

I huffed, blowing a wisp of hair out of my eyes.

Every day after school ended, we'd end up in this same position. She would drag me along with her to spy on the boys' volleyball team practice, insisting that I stand watch so she could stare at her crush without worrying about passing faculty staff. Ever since she laid eyes on Tendo Satori, life just hadn't been the same. She never wanted to talk about anything other than the team's upcoming matches or how to conveniently bump into him in the halls between classes and whenever she slept over my house, it was spent wasting away on those sport magazines where most of the team members had featured articles.

The things that I said never seemed to interest her anymore unless they were somehow connected to that stupid ball smacking sport. They were taking over her life and our friendship. For that, I would always have a special kind of hatred for volleyball and everyone who played it.

Especially Tendo.

The tall redheaded blocker, who acted more like a mad scientist than a smooth talker, had surprisingly stolen the affections of a lot of girls in Shiratorizawa Academy. He was funny enough for some, but the romantic appeal soared over my head like a tree bound kite.

"Itsu-chan, can we please go now?" I pleaded with her. "I promised my mom I wouldn't be late for dinner again."

"Just one more minute, I swear!" She chirped, glancing down at me with a love addled grin. Her eyes were wide, glossy and practically had stars in place of her pupils.

 _The eyes of a lunatic_ , I thought to myself.

Itsuko and I had been close friends since our fifth birthday. Not only did we attend the same school, but she lived a few neighborhoods down from my own house, within walking distance so there was very few days in our lives where we went without seeing each other, even in passing. Sometimes it came to the point where one of us felt a little smothered by each other's constant company and we needed a break to hang out with other people. Much like siblings in that way.

And to add on even more to that dynamic, sometimes it was easy to get overwhelmed by the negative aspects of our personalities. It wasn't until a few weeks ago when she got bitten by the love bug that I really began to see it too. It seemed like it was destiny that she would crush on the spiky haired volleyballer, sinking our friendship in the process and possibly my own home life by how late she liked to keep me out.

I should have went to Aobajosai.

The echoing sounds of sneaker covered feet slamming onto the gymnasium floor, volleyballs bouncing off hard surfaces and male cheering filter through the cracked window. My arms began to tremble and ache from holding Itsuko's legs in place for so long. I tried shifting my weight to accommodate hers, but it didn't help much. I wasn't as strong as her electrocuted haired crush and that one minute promise was quickly turning into ten.

"This is starting to hurt-"

"I know, isn't he so talented? I don't know why he's not the captain."

I stared blankly at the white wall for a moment before gazing up at her. She didn't comprehend a word I said. Smoke should have been puffing out of my ears from how agitated I was growing. Not to mention the messenger bag that was still hanging off my shoulder, crammed with at least five different thick papered school textbooks. It clung firm against my uniform blazer the second we entered these shenanigans, but with Itsuko's legs grinding against the strap and the constant adjustment of my feet placement to keep her elevated, it was beginning to slip. That wouldn't be good for either of us. Somebody inside would surely hear it drop.

"I can't feel my hands anymore," I mumbled.

"Ten more seconds, I swear! He's just about to make the practice set!"

"But-"

Her pale blonde eyebrows knitted together at that, but she didn't look down. "What? What is it"?

"Just quit moving for a second."

"Why, what's the matt-" Then she did it.

She moved.

And we went tumbling down. Itsuko's shriek filled my eardrums as we crashed onto the grass, arms flailing like caught fish. I landed on my side with a clumsy thump and I heard her cry out a little in pain when her bare knees made contact with the dewy earth. The flap of my book bag flew open, causing papers and writing utensils to scatter all over the grass and concrete. Some notebook paper that I had previously torn out for quick access had rocketed high into the air and were floating down around us like pellets of snow. It was a disaster. If any teachers came by and saw us like that, they'd probably empty out our lockers and kick us out into the street.

I leaned upright, groaning and shifted my legs so they were folding off to the side. A lonely sheet of parchment came swaying down from an unseen location and landed very delicately on my head, like a new hat. I glared up at it before shaking my head fiercely, knocking it off.

"Maaaaan," Itsuko moaned her usual phrase when something went awry. She was bracing herself on her hands and knees, but sat back on her heels then and inspected her palms to see if they were scraped.

Grumbling to myself, I rose unsteadily to my feet and began scooping up the fallen debris of papers, pencils and erasures that had exploded out of my bag, thrusting them inside rougher than necessary. I never felt so much anger before, especially directed toward a single person, let alone my best friend and up until then, I didn't think I ever would. My life was just too mellow for that. It used to be, anyhow. Now all I wanted to do was go home and enjoy the disarray of my own personal bedroom but she couldn't even allow me that. It was like I had become an unwilling third participate in her and her one sided relationship and she wasn't understanding my breakup text messages.

"Hmm," Itsuko hummed after a minute and I glanced over to see her gawking up at the window sill again, one arm wrapped under her chest, the other hand fisted under her chin. Her green eyes brightened and she whipped around to look at me excitedly. "Hey, maybe if we stack yours and my books together like a box-" She made an outline of the shape with her hands. "We could see up into the-"

"No, Itsuko," I snapped. "Stay here all day if you want, but I have to go home."

Her face crumpled slowly, like a dissolving cookie in milk. "But... but why?"

"Why? _Why?_ I told you I couldn't be late for dinner again. I told you twice. Do you even listen to me anymore?"

"Of course I do, Chihiro-chan!"

"Then what did I tell you I had to buy for my mom earlier?"

Itsuko went still then, twisting and kicking her feet around in the grass. She smiled sheepishly and scrubbed her fingers through the back of her golden blonde hair. "Um... those daifuku packs your Dad likes?"

Just the guilt in her expression was enough for me to turn my back on her and continue searching for my missing belongings. I snatched the paper sheets off the blades of grass hard enough to cause wrinkles and tears at the corners, internally vowing to myself to never be reeled in by hers or anyone else's extracurricular mischief ever again. In a way, it was all my own doing. I was the one who let Itsuko go far off the edge into her infatuation, assuming it would quit after about a week or two. It wasn't like this wasn't the first time she admired a guy from a far then quickly forgot him in favor for another handsome face. That was just who she was. An overly stimulated, scatterbrained person.

Itsuko was still groveling as I leaned down to pick up fallen pencil sharpeners. They were lying nearby the steps that went into the boys' gym. "Hey, you're not really leaving now, huh? It's still early! What about our plans later?"

"Consider them cancelled."

"What about on Monday? We're still going to the movies after school, right?"

"Who knows."

That made her groan and she went on crooning my name the way she always would when I wasn't completely won over by her schemes. "But Chihiiiiirohhhhhh."

Instead of smiling that time, the sound of it made me roll my eyes. Let her sulk and think about her selfishness. That was just fine with me. It wasn't like I didn't have a novel's length of schoolwork to do. There were plenty of things for me to do to keep myself occupied. Maybe I wouldn't even answer her calls for a week straight. Maybe two.

The last few notebook papers went drifting along with the soft breeze, leading them to rest faraway at the steps of the boy's gymnasium. They crinkled by the force of the current and I hurried over to snatch them up before they had a chance to fly to a place where I couldn't reach. Someone inside the gym must have heard us fall anyway and was bound to come out to see what it was. How would it look to find two high school girls leering in on the boy's volleyball practice? And making a big secret of it? Boys would probably laugh. Other girls would make fun of us. The Principal wouldn't be happy either...

I didn't even want to imagine our parent's reactions. The mere concept made me suppress a shudder.

Sighing, I bent down to pick up the pages, frowning when I saw that some of the pencil writing had smudged.

"Chihiro-chan, wait!" Itsuko's voice rang out startlingly loud.

"What now?" I muttered, still upset and bending over to collect my stuff. The gentle breeze blew wisps of hair in my eyes and my vision was blurred when I straightened up.

"- no! Look out!" The voice of my best friend warned one final time until a solid round mass smashed into the side of my head.

Everything went black.

* * *

It was like time travel, from the second consciousness left me to the minute my eyes slowly peeked open atop of the nurse's bed. The plain white room looked even brighter than normal, the ceiling bulbs so blinding I had to clamp both hands across my eyes and groan. A dull, aching pain ticked at the base of my neck. What happened? I remembered getting mad at Itsuko, then it all grew fuzzy from there. Did our fall make me sick? Did the boy's volleyball team catch us in mid peep and I fainted in mortification? I didn't know which would be worse.

I shifted on the papery bed, the waves of air coming from the vents making me shiver as I tried to piece together what transpired. When I tried standing up, a hand gently pushed me back down by the arm. A friendly face came into view.

It was the school nurse. "No, no, you better lie there until the swelling goes down," she said. "You got hit pretty hard."

I closed my eyes when she began prodding the sensitive bump at the side of my head with her fingers, hissing in discomfort when she pressed down. "Sorry, sweetie." She smiled sheepishly, her red lipstick smooth and shiny over her full lips.

"What happened?" I asked as she bustled around for a cold compress.

"Goodness, that ball did get you good," the nurse murmured, her eyes widening a little. She swept my hair back over my shoulder before pressing an ice packet to the bruising, patting my hand with her free one when I winced at the contact. "It's no shock that you don't remember. A volleyball collided with you during the boys' practice. You fell unconscious and had to be carried here. Don't worry, you're not severely hurt and there wasn't any blood. Quite a difference than what happened to the last student!"

I grew pale by the end of her explanation, a gory scene popping into my head of a young students lying in a helpless heap with their head missing, surrounded by peers pointing and laughing while a star struck Itsuko threw flower petals at Tendo's feet. The picture made me both angry and sick. Stupid volleyball players.

The nurse studied my expression and shook her head quickly. "Oh, no, I didn't mean it that way. You just woke up quicker than most. What a trooper!" She gave another smile before removing the ice pack and checking the bruise with her fingers again. It still felt tender and sore, but the bump wasn't so obvious.

I could sit up without feeling dizzy, but I remained on the bed just in case. The round clock on the wall read **4:30 PM**. Classes had long ended and I wouldn't have been surprised if I was the only student left lingering in the building, except for club meetings and sport practices. Most would have made way for their dorm rooms by now or back home for the weekend. Home. Where I could have been if I hadn't followed Itsuko's lead.

"Your friend has your things and is waiting for you outside the entrance. She said to tell you she's sorry and that she still wants to see that action movie on Monday."

The bubble of irritation in my chest popped at that and in it's place, something heavy settled underneath. A deep sinking feeling as if someone wearing big water soaked shoes was stepping over where my heart was. Guilt? Remorse? Probably. I had snapped at her pretty harshly, maybe _too_ viciously considering how much of a vulnerable soul she was. Was it really right of me to be mad at her for her gallivanting affections? It was normal to get crushes. Griping on her for liking a boy seemed so immature now, despite the unchanging impression that our friendship was being sidetracked. Itsuko was still my best friend after all and turning my back on her wasn't easy. Impossible, the more I thought about it.

"I tried sending her away an hour ago, but she insisted on waiting," the kind nurse noted with a head shake. "At least Ushijima listens to his elders."

The sudden name drop made me frown. "Sorry?"

"Ushijima Wakatoshi. From class six."

I stared at her.

She looked right back at me. Seconds passed in silence.

"Captain of the boy's volleyball team. About... oh, I don't know, this tall-" She made a line with her fingers and held it high above her head.

I cut her description short. "No, I know who he is. It's just... I don't understand what he has to do with anything."

"Oh my, that ball knocked your memory too," the nurse remarked after a beat with a light laugh, her full cheeks bright and rosy. "Ushijima was the one who struck the ball that hit you. When you fell unconscious, your friend called for help. He picked you up and carried you right over."

My hand instinctively flew up to cup the spot where the ball landed. Blood gushed painfully to the area by the abrupt touch, but my senses, blindsided and frazzled as they were, didn't register it right away. The only thing I could comprehend were the connecting dots in my mind. Itsuko's warning cry, the rush of air around me before passing out, being carried to the nurse's office in the arms of the same boy who put me in this position in the first place.

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

That bastard.

"You see, that's why I was so pleasantly surprised you only had minor bruising and woke up so quickly! Everyone knows how hard that young man can spike."

Apparently I didn't.

I knew I hated volleyball for a reason, I seethed to myself, feeling like steam was erupting from my ears. It wasn't just because of six inches of stick up red hair. They were all bad. All of them.

"If I were you, I'd think about writing a 'thank-you' note to him. He waited outside the door for the longest time so he could apologize. I think he would still be there if I hadn't sent him off so he wouldn't miss class!" The nurse chuckled again. "Such a nice young man."

If my head wasn't exploding before, it certainly was now. Of course I knew of Ushijima Wakatoshi, captain of Shiratorizawa's volleyball team. There wasn't anyone in the school, in the prefecture, in the country who didn't. His face tended to be plastered all over bulletin boards in the halls along with the other members and even in magazine articles. Young boys everywhere liked to talk about their power and how much they admired them, my own brother included. They were everywhere, in every literal sense. Newspaper clippings, television, radio.

I knew of Ushijima; I just didn't know him. Why would I want to? He played volleyball.

That meant I already disliked him.

After a while, the nurse examined the swelling on my head and discovered that it had receded enough for me to go home. The office had called my parents to tell them what happened, but the tameness of the situation and the fact that they didn't have to send me to an actual hospital meant that they didn't have to leave work. The mental image of their reaction was severe enough to make my ears ring. They'd probably never let me out of the house after this. Or at least not withhold some kind of protective helmet.

I waddled out to the campus entrance, my head still muddled but otherwise clear of pain. The nurse had gifted me a grape juice box before releasing me and I held the cool side of the carton to my temple to ease some of the fuzziness. Itsuko's figure was waiting in the distance, her back toward the school as she traced circles in the dirt with the front of her shoe, then kicked it away. My bag was held behind her, fingers curled under the strap. When I called out for her, she noticeably stiffened before spinning around, light green eyes wide and watery.

"Chihiro-chaaaaaaaaan!"

That shrill tone cued a stampede of footsteps as she started running fullsprint to me, arms waving wildly like she was trying to make the world's very first air angel.

Before our foreheads could collide in a painful smack, I calmly held out my arm, palm facing outward and stopped her in her tracks. My fingers sunk into the fullness of her cheek awkwardly, temporarily dazing her. Her arms were still halfway in the air.

"My head, Itsu-chan," I deadpanned, both of us holding the pose.

Itsuko grinned ruefully. "Oh, yeah, right." She slumped back into her regular posture then and rubbed the back of her head, short unbraided twin tails popping out at either side of her neck. "I've been doing some thinking while I was waiting..."

"That's new."

"And I've come to the realization- hey!" Realizing what I said, she lightly whacked me in the shoulder. "I... I know I've been a terrible friend to you lately. Really, Chihiro-chan, your friendship means the world to me and I never wanted to make you feel like you were unimportant! You're like family to me!"

I smiled faintly at her passionate exclamation, feeling guilty of bad behavior myself. "It's okay, Itsu-chan. I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. People get crushes all the time. It's natural and I should have been supportive instead of jealous."

Itsuko giggled, linking her arm through mine. "Oh, silly, Chihiro-chan! You know I could never replace you!" She handed over my book bag and playfully tugged me toward the sidewalk where we usually made our weekend commute home. "Besides, I think I ought to give boys a break for while. Tendo's attention is so hard to catch!"

"It might help if you didn't lurk from the shadows and actually went up to talk to him."

"True."

We walked in comfortable silence for a moment, enjoying the afternoon breeze, the soothing _thunk thunk_ of our shoes against the pavement, a flock of bird flying above, the soft tinge of orange in the sky by the approaching sunset and most importantly, each other's company. It felt like a blast to the past of old times where no matter how crazy our day went, whether it was riddled with piles of homework, exams one after another, or just boring hours of having no one to talk to between breaks, we always reconnected afterwards. The juice box in my school blazer pocket was still cold when I reached for it, so I unwrapped the plastic covering, stabbed the little bendy straw into the cutout and let Itsuko take the first sip. She smiled and giggled when purple juice dribbled on her bottom lip.

"You know, I don't really blame you for liking Tendo," I confessed quietly. "He is cute."

Itsuko's gaze snapped to me sharply, thin brows pulling together. She blinked.

And blinked.

Before a happy squeal burst from her lips. She clapped her hands together excitedly, on cloud nine at the fact that I agreed on her choice of crush, but she didn't say more of it. We only continued passing the juice carton back and forth all the way home. Maybe getting nailed in the head by that volleyball worked out for the best after all. If it hadn't happened, I'd still be angry at Itsuko, stormed away and we probably wouldn't have spoke until the following week. Or the week after that. Maybe not even that. That would have definitely made things worse in the long run, but I was happy were already past that.

The ball brought us together in a weird way. I just hoped it wouldn't tear us apart again.

As we got closer to our neighborhood, the nurse's advice couldn't help but parachute around in my mind, like when a parent told you to do something around the house and you remembered it at the last minute. Except there wasn't any panic. Only a strong sense that I had to suck it up, be a good person, and thank Ushijima the proper way, no matter how much it mortified me. The way the nurse spoke about him in such high regard... it was like she hadn't met a teenaged boy with manners like his. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

Maybe.

* * *

Approximately six hours and thirteen sheets of notebook paper later, I ripped out a fresh page from my book, crumpled it into a ball and threw it at the trash in frustration. The bin was already full at that point and it bounced off the rim, then rolled to the middle of the floor. That made me grumble in incoherence, but I was too irked to do anything about it and just laid my cheek on my desk, wanting to bang my whole head against it until something suitable popped in my head to write Ushijima. Nothing I thought of sounded formal enough.

_Dear, Ushijima-san_

_You probably don't remember me, but you should since I could have died on Friday because of you_ -

No, that was too aggressive.

_Dear, Ushijima-san_

_This is Otonashi Chihiro, a second year from class 5. Thank you for carrying me to the nurse's office, it was very nice you, even though I wished you hadn't because I really don't like you_ -

That was too honest.

_Dear, Ushijima-san_

_Thanks._

_Sincerely,_ _Otonashi Chihiro from class 5_

And that was way too simple.

Getting my thoughts down on paper, regardless of whether they were pleasant or charged with bitterness, was more difficult than I thought. Saying just a plain 'thank you' didn't feel like enough. Volleyball players weren't exactly people I admired, but given Ushijima's act of kindness, I wasn't completely averted to the idea of speaking to him. At least more than a few minutes. But the slight gratitude that stirred inside me was overcome with nerves that quickly jumbled any thoughts that tried to escape. Itsuko probably wouldn't have any trouble doing this. She always had a personality that flourished.

"Are you writing a story?" The voice of my younger brother Koichi quipped from over my shoulder.

I jumped by the sudden presence, neck stiff and sore from being hunched over the desk for so long. I blinked and glanced at my open notebook that was littered with scribbles. "Kind of. Did you need help with homework?"

Koichi shook his head, hands stuffed in the pockets of his red hoodie. "Mom wanted me to get you for dinner."

That made me lean back and rub at the side of my neck. How long had I been holed up in my room? Usually I was the one who had to drag my brother by the shirt tails and down to the dining table. The roles were switched then and I almost felt like shooing him out the door like he'd do to me countless times. But I was tired. And hungry.

The letter would have to wait.

"Come on, hurry up!" Koichi griped from the entryway.

"Okay, I'm coming," I replied as I carefully shut my notebook away in the desk drawer before joining the rest of my family for dinner.

* * *

With a head clearer and stomach warm and full, the routinely hour set for bed came by with ease. The swelling had gone down at my head and didn't hurt so much whenever I moved my neck, but sleeping on my regular side would probably be a challenge. Mom had a mix of reactions brewing when we were all seated for dinner, but she didn't ruin the already awkward atmosphere by letting them all spill. Mostly, she asked what kind of medicine the nurse gave me and if I still felt pain. I guess whatever the nurse told her over the phone didn't sound like anything more than it was: an accident. At least now Dad wouldn't have to worry about hospital bills.

Trudging up the stairs, I stopped in the middle of the hall when I realized I still had to compose and deliver the thank you note to Ushijima. Eight hours had gone by since I came home and not one word was written down for it. What else was there to say except 'thanks for not killing me' or 'I resent you'? I buried my face in my hands and sighed, wondering what I could come up with by Monday morning.

Then an idea formed.

The door to my brother's room was halfway shut, allowing light to filter through and touch the opposite wall. It was quiet inside, but it generally was during that time of night, as he got himself into the habit of gaming for a few hours before falling asleep.

I pushed the handle open a little more and peered in. "Hey, Koichi, do you still have last month's sport magazine?"

He was sitting on his bed, playing a Gameboy Advanced in his sleep clothes. "Yeah, why?" He didn't even look up at me when he answered.

I danced around the question as much as I could. He'd definitely think I was weird if I told him. "Mind if I see it for a second?" He only shrugged in response, too deeply invested in his game to care much, so I took that as a signal to sift through his hefty stack of Shonen Jumps.

Kneeling down, I flipped through the magazines until the front sport page unveiled from the last row. Different faces of athletes shared the cover, all from various sports and teams. The boys of Shiratorizawa were somewhere in there and along with it, random facts about Ushijima. I sat on the carpet and skimmed through the pages, hearing Koichi's button smashing and grumbles of frustration from the bed. A lot of the content was surprisingly ads, but after halfway through the magazine, the articles of the boys came into view. The last one was focused on the team captain.

Ushijima.

Glaring a bit at his photograph, I read his fact sheet, my eyebrows shooting up at how tall he actually was. Other tidbits of information included things like star sign, eye color, weight and a small list of his favorite things. One of those things in particular caught my attention. I closed the book then before setting it back on the pile and standing up.

"Thanks, bro."

Koichi just grunted in acknowledgement.

I rolled my eyes and padded down the stairs to the kitchen. Mom was by the sink when I rounded the corner, drying wet dishes and putting them away.

"Mom, do we have anymore bay leaves and tomato paste?"

She thought for a moment. "I used them up for last night's dinner. Why?"

"I was just thinking of making some hayashi rice tomorrow."

"If you're having cravings, I can always make it for dinner next weekend."

"No, no... it's not for me." I anxiously rubbed the back of my head. "It's for a student at school." Mom raised her eyebrows at that, but didn't say anything, so I continued. "Remember how I got hit in the head today by a volleyball? Well, it turns out the guy who did it is on the team. He helped me to the nurse's office and I read he likes hayashi rice, so I thought I'd make some for him as a thank you present."

Mom had paused from putting the dishes away then and was fully facing me. She draped the damp towel over her shoulder and folded her arms. "Ah. I remember my first high school crush..."

I paled. "God, Mom, it's not like I'm gonna propose to him. He just did a nice thing and I wanna show my gratitude."

"I'll say," she remarked with a chuckle. "Since you seem so eager, I'll make you a deal: I'll make the dish for you in the morning and you walk your little brother to his soccer practice. I have to go into work early."

"Okay, that's fair. Thanks, Mom."

She nodded and smiled, moving the rag so she could wipe her hands. "If you want to feed your honey, it might as well be something good."

The expression on my face was equal to that of a blank slate. A reddening, furious canvas. It was normal to give gifts as recompense for kind gestures, wasn't it? Even to someone you hadn't formally met? It seemed that way to me, albeit not very many students at Shiritorizawa Academy had undergone the 'volleyball to cranium' initiation of the second year semester. I would have done it for anyone else, whether it was a tall volleyball team captain or someone more spastic, like Itsuko. That wasn't how my mother saw it, though, but I was just beginning to think she liked to see me flustered.

Retreating back to my room, I changed into my sleep wear before making sure I had everything in my school bag for Monday and all the paper balls were deposited in the trash bin. It was relaxing to not have many academic burdens coming home for the weekend. I could have used that night and the following day to recharge, to allow my brain to ghost on the bundle of information that it had to retain almost every day. Adding into the fact that I had to spent a few hours in the nurse's office, treating bad head pains (I was lucky enough to still have had one) and walking feeling like there was cotton stuffed in my cheeks... sleeping in for a night was a fair trade for all the toil and trouble.

I climbed into bed and shut off the table side lamp with a yawn. When my eyes adjusted to the dark, I couldn't help but think back on the magazine articles. I had never cared for volleyball players, but judging from Ushijima's picture alone, I couldn't help but admit...

He was sort of good-looking.

* * *

Sunlight came streaking through the windows, casting warm rays on my form buried underneath mounds of blankets. Birds started chirping from the trees outside. If it wasn't the weekend, I would have been forced to wake up at dawn, clean myself up and pack for the school week before making the trip back to Shiratorizawa. But since it was a Saturday, I was free to sleep in, eat something beside routine cafeteria lunches, and take my time with homework. It was nice to be able to rest for once in what seemed like months.

Then someone knocked on the door. The knob twisted and creaked open.

"Chihiro?" Mom's voice murmured.

I groaned incomprehensibly and rolled over over, pulling the comforter from my face. "Yeah?"

"Can you still walk your little brother to his soccer game?"

"Sure."

Silence.

I closed my eyes, sleep calling to me again and expected for the door to click shut with my mom's departure, but then I heard her sigh. And her nails began tapping on the door handle. Curiously, I peered my eyes open at her again. "What?"

"It's today," Mom deadpanned.

I shot straight up. "But you said it was-"

"Saturday. Which is today."

Oh, right, I thought to myself. Why did I think his game was on Sunday? Yesterday's events must have messed up my thought process, short circuiting my memory to the point where all I could retain was the impact of the volleyball against my skull. Since his game was that morning at noon, that meant I only had twenty minutes to freshen up, dress appropriately and walk him to the playing field on time.

Jumping out of bed, I yanked my dresser drawer open, grabbing a handful of clothes that seemed suitable for the weather and charged past my mom toward the bathroom. She stood outside the hall, coat draped over one arm and laughed when she heard me running the tap water, hurrying to catch up to schedule.

"Your brother is waiting in the kitchen. I made that dish you wanted; it's wrapped in a box at the top shelf in the fridge."

I waved goodbye at her as she opened the front door with a smile and stepped out, the smell of fresh cooking ingredients wafting in from the kitchen. There was still five minutes left until Koichi and I had to walk out as well, so I used that time to get dressed and brush the sleep-tangles from my hair. It wasn't the first instance of Mom tasking me with the responsibility of escorting my little brother somewhere. Whether it was to a sport game or a friend's house, I was generally the one who walked him there and back. When I was home for the weekend, that was.

Koichi and I got along pretty well, as well as any siblings would when they only saw each other twice a week. He had the same dry sense of humor as our Mom, so that caused for much of our bickering. It never grew personal, though; he was still my little brother and I loved him.

Koichi was sitting at the table when I came in, playing with one of his portable games low on his lap. "Oh, so you're alive," he snipped.

"Shut up, dobe." I reached out to ruffle his light brown hair and he smacked my hand away gently. "Are you ready?"

"I've been ready."

He stood up then and slung his sport bag over his shoulder. We left right on the dot at **11:45 AM** , which was surprising considering how late I had woken up. The roads were pretty empty during this time of day as most people were already gone from their house so it was a relatively easy walk for us. Koichi took the lead and walked on a couple paces ahead of me while I strolled along with my hands in my jacket pockets. It was a nice morning to be outside as the sun wasn't shining too hot, but the only downside to it was that the long route that we took to the soccer field usually left me with sore feet. I practically felt like crawling back inside the house on the trip back.

Some people were made for athleticism, but I clearly wasn't apart of that margin.

Yawning, I rubbed the length of my right arm over my face, covering my eyes in the process and not realizing that Koichi had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. I bumped straight into his back, making me stumble a little and glare down at his short head.

"Hey, baka, what are you-"

His grip slackened on his practice bag and he pointed excitedly to something at the opposite crosswalk. "Look!" He gasped. "It's the Super Ace!"

"Huh?" I scratched my temple in confusion and scanned the expanse of our side of the pavement, following the direction of Koichi's arm all the way across from us. Then I gasped too.

Jogging swiftly along the adjoining sidewalk, tall and lean, was Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Despite our rather loud exchange, the volleyball captain didn't take notice to us, much less glance our way. His features were calm and composed (a part of me dared to say broodingly handsome), not even breaking a sweat even though it appeared that he'd been running for several hours. Did he always take this path when exercising? Right near my house? Why didn't I spot him before? Maybe I had passed him once on occasion without realizing it. A raincloud of emotions came over me.

I didn't know what to do. He didn't see us, so it was a good reason as any to continue on walk like he wasn't there, but given our last form of connection, I felt inclined to approach him in some way and offer my thanks for his help.

"You think he gives autographs?" Koichi mused, turning his body to face Ushijima the farther he jogged down the block.

I grabbed his shirt collar and tugged him along. "Oh, no, you don't," I told him and his arms went flailing as I yanked him back. "Leave him alone. We're gonna be late for your game."

"Can you get one for me on Monday, at least?"

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Come on, you go to school with the guy. He has to know who you are."

I was glad I was pulling him behind me then or he would have seen the blush on my cheeks. "He doesn't, actually."

That technically wasn't a lie. Given how many times the volleyball captain must have caused accidents like what happened outside the gymnasium, I was sure he unintentionally sent numerous amount of students to the nurse's office due to his killer hand. What was one more face to the mix? He probably forgotten all about me already. And that was fine with me.

Koichi and I kept walking at a gradual pace, side by side, until the grassy outline of his practice field came into view. The net was set up and people were preparing to start the game, pulling out chairs and the goalie's net. I waited by the curb as Koichi approached the area where the players met and all his friends were there, seeing them smile and wave him over enthusiastically. He returned their gesture before sending a shorter wave in my direction, which I smiled faintly at. His game generally lasted a couple hours, so I wouldn't have to pick him up until two in the afternoon. That left some time for me to finish homework and maybe even take a nap.

I walked back home with a little more energy in my step despite the exhaustion that raked my body. All I could think about was the possibility of running into Ushijima again on the sidewalk - or more like passing him while he worked on his aerobics, unbeknownst to my presence. What could I have said to him to begin with? Presenting him with a warm 'thank you' in my head was much simpler than just approaching the guy like anyone would have done. I wasn't generally shy around boys, but maybe that was because I had yet to experience a first real crush. Flipping through fashion magazines to ogle the male models didn't count and neither did mentality commenting on a boy's good looks when passing them in school. Itsuko teased me once saying that true love never waited farther than the horse's stables.

I was sure it'd never be near the gymnasium.

With nothing but the thud of my sneakers to accompany me, I tucked my hands in my jacket pockets and turned the corner to my neighborhood. It was a quiet mid morning aside from the occasional passing car or bird chirping in a nearby tree. When the grassy hedges of our front lawn came into view, a thought struck me and made me stop in my tracks in the middle of the sidewalk. The general route of our neighborhood was shaped like a circle, allowing travelling passersby to circuit around the block over and over again if they wanted to. What if that was what Ushijima was doing for his morning run? What if he was on his way back around right then and there?

The notion sparked a bubble of paranoia and with nervousness, I glanced over both sides of my shoulders, expecting to see his hurricane of a physique come trampling through at any second. Would he finally stop and acknowledge me or keep on jogging? What did I even want him to do? Feeling antsy, I resumed my walk back to my house, stride a little quicker now with the thought of an impending volleyball captain on the brain. I told myself I wasn't running the rest of the way home, but it might have looked that way.

* * *

For the first time in my life, I felt like I wasn't ready for school.

I woke up five minutes past my alarm, lost my spare school shirt in the laundry room, and had trouble fitting all the my school material in the limited space of my school bag. There was still the finished container of hayashi rice Mom had left in the fridge for me to take to Ushijima and I didn't know how I'd carry the heavy load all the way to Shiratorizawa grounds without either spilling the dish or my book bag. I guess I could have enlisted Itsuko's help, but the outcomes were potentially equally disastrous for the both of us. She had enough struggle carrying her own things.

Despite the rocky beginning, the walk back to campus was a pleasant one. Itsuko, still fresh off her passionate words from the weekend, didn't utter a word about Tendo or any other boy. She still talked a million miles a minute about this or that, but it was two-sided this time with each of us contributing to the conversation. It was refreshing. It loosened me up as we approached the school's gates and I felt better equipped to take on the day. Maybe not the week, but at least the day.

Until I remembered I had to deliver the hayashi rice to Ushijima's dorm room.

"Oh, no." I skidded to a halt past campus borders. "I can't do this."

Itsuko, walking a couple paces ahead of me, turned around and frowned. "What are you talking about, Chihiro-chan?"

"This!" I lifted the meal in my grasp for emphasize. "I can't face him after what happened. What am I supposed to say? Thanks for taking me to the nurse after you knocked me out, so here's a gourmet meal so you can eat well?"

"I think that sounds very sweet."

"How about you take it to him then?"

Itsuko's displeased expression resembled a mother hen and she promptly fisted her hands at her hips. "Chihiro-chan, you went through all this trouble in making that dish!" She pointed a finger in the direction of the boys' dorm rooms. "Now go see to it."

"My mom cooked it."

"Well, then, honor your mother!"

Itsuko jumped behind me then, pushing both palms flat against my back to steer me along. I dug in my heels, stubbornly fighting against her encouragement and I almost flailed my arms about until I realized I still had the bento box to hold on to.

"Stop! Itsu-chan, no!" I protested, but she kept on pushing. We shuffled down the corridors of the boys' dorm, passing male students exiting their rooms and they all shot confused glances our way.

I wasn't certain how Itsuko knew the number of Ushijima's dorm, but I guessed it had something to do about her previous surveillance to everything Tendo Satori. She was bound to figure out the room and boarding for the other team members, too. Especially the captain. My stomach did fried flips as she maneuvered me in front of a simple closed doorway before swiftly knocking on it it three times. My hands gripped the sides of the container tighter and I gulped, feeling like an insect under the height of the biggest crushing shoe.

"I'll be watching!" Itsuko said in my ear, grinning from ear to ear. She took off and disappeared around the corner then, but I had no doubt that she'd somehow situate herself behind one of those grassy green hedges outside of the window.

I looked back at the door again and took a deep breath, holding the container a little lower against my middle so I didn't come off so nervous. A few seconds passed without much noise at the other side of the wood and I wondered to myself if we came at the right time or if Ushijima had already left for his class. If he was already gone then I'd be free to leave too and throw the dish away. I glanced both ways down the hall, stepping back in preparation to make my escape.

Then the door opened.

And there stood Ushijima.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been sitting in my folder for ages and I thought I'd post it and see what I could do with it for fun between school. I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you liked it too. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading! Take care.


	2. not a farm boy

"Is there something I can do for you?"

The deep tone of his voice nearly knocked me off my feet. His brown eyes, clear and serious, stared down at me and looking up at him made this uncomfortable knot tick at the back of my neck. My stomach did an anxious flip and I didn't know if it was because of the height difference or I was just sick with nerves. Maybe both.

"I'm Otonashi Chihiro... a second year," I introduced myself tentatively with a gulp. "I'm the-"

"Tendo isn't here."

"What?"

"He already left for class. If you want a picture with him you'll have to-"

I huffed then and the sound of it cut Ushijima's rather offensive assumption short. As though I'd carry any sort of interest for that fire hydrant haired loon. "Oh, please... I mean, no, no, I'm not here for... for _him_ ," I grumbled the last part. "Actually I came to talk to you. You see, I'm the one you helped on-"

"From class five," Ushijima interjected, as if recalling my face for the first time in his life, despite unintentionally creaming it with a volleyball. "I remember."

"You do? Then why would you think I'm for Tendo?"

Ushijima's eyebrows caved in a bit, like he was confused on why I wouldn't be here otherwise. "He has many friends and girls often come to our dorm asking for him. I don't have time for either of that."

I nodded in confirmation, a little surprised that he did remember, though he did literally sweep me up in his arms and carried me to the nurse's office when I blacked out. That would stick to anyone's memory... especially since he was the culprit. I felt my face flush with heat again but this time out of irritation. "Right, of course. I _was_ lying there unconscious... guess that's hard to forget. I came here beca-"

"I'm sorry about your injury. Other teams aren't quick enough to receive my spikes. It can be dangerous."

I couldn't help but just gape for a moment at his frank apology, not expecting it to sound so sincere despite the all but clinical expression on his face like he just woke up from an induced coma. "Yes, so I've heard." I cleared my throat then, his eyes on me making me look down at my shoes. "Anyways... I just wanted to thank you for helping me to the nurse's office. It was very kind of you. I read somewhere... you know, in one of those sport magazines, that you like Hayashi rice so I had some made for you." With warm cheeks, I cut my rambling short by thrusting the plastic container in Ushijima's direction. "So... thank you very much."

Ushijima blinked once before reaching out with one hand and accepting the container. His expression, normally calm and demure, seemed even more wooden in the middle of that awkward silence; the long never ending white corridors trapping us in a loop of uncomfortable gifts of gratitude. Why did I let Itsuko leave me there alone? It would have been better to have her there hovering over my shoulder, grinning from ear to ear, whispering lines to me like a playwright and glowering at the volleyball captain if he didn't respond a certain way. I imagined that she was hiding away somewhere watching the whole scene, sputtering over the fact that I was ruining a simple task.

"Thank you," the volley captain said at last.

With an apprehensive smile, I gave a short bow of my head before turning toward the right side of the hall to leave.

"If there's something you need in return-" his voice rumbled again, making me freeze and I peered at him slyly to find his eyes focused on the area where the volleyball made contact with my head. "Please tell me."

My thoughts skidded off track, cheeks flushing at his sincere tone despite the his features being twisted in a rather unapproachable way "I... oh, uh. It's alright, Ushijima-san. I'm okay now. Thank you again."

I promptly turned and marched away after that, telling myself to walk at a sensible pace and not hightail it out of there like my hammering heart felt like doing. My back racked with shivers and something told me that Ushijima was watching me leave, so I held my breath until I rounded the corner, finally out of sight. I slumped against the wall then and let out a heavy exhale while other students passed me on their way to class.

It was surreal to officially meet him. Not only as the guy who sent a volleyball reeling for my head but as a celebrated member of the school's student body and athletes everywhere. Was this how Itsuko felt every time she saw Tendo? Starstruck?

Maybe not, I concluded to myself with a small head shake and made way for class. I was pretty sure I was just mortified.

A weight lifted from my shoulders as I entered the building of my classroom and walked to the numbered door. The small ridge at my head where the volley nearly pulverized my skull wasn't throbbing as much, I had positive thoughts about the new week's onslaught of homework and most importantly, I no longer felt stifled by the required gesture of gratitude brought upon me by the school nurse. I guess it wasn't anymore forced than it was necessary.

Deep down, I really did appreciate Ushijima's assistance that day. He could have turned a blind eye to it and went on polishing his white sneakers, or whatever athletes did in their spare time. It just wasn't easy for me to outright admit it since I generally steered clear from his kind. Now I had all the more reason to.

Clutching the strap of my book bag across my chest with both hands, I continued on to class, smiling at peers who waved at me before ducking in their class rooms. The second I stepped within the threshold of class five, the door wide open so all the seats inside were visible, a flash of blonde hair blurred across the room, followed by a barrel of rapid footsteps coming my way. I immediately knew who it was and physically braced for impact.

"What did he say?" Itsuko's face suddenly appeared in front of mine. Her hands clamped me on the shoulders. "Was he nice to you? Did he taste the food? Did he like it? He better have liked it! Your mom went through all that work and-"

Her inquiries made my forehead ache. "Itsu-chan, he isn't a barbarian. He didn't eat it out of the box with his hands. And yes, he was very... polite."

She sagged with relief and smiled. "See? All your worrying for nothing."

Yes, of course, I thought to myself. _My_ worries. "Wait, why are you asking? Weren't you watching the whole time?"

Itsuko scratched the side of her head and laughed. "Oh, nah. I had to meet with my tutor before class started. I just told you I'd be watching so you wouldn't back out." Her happy, go-lucky grin fell once she took in my lifeless, buzzkilled expression. "Hey, hey, don't be like that! You didn't need me there after all. You did it by yourself and didn't make anymore of a fool of yourself... right?"

I exhaled and shrugged, feeling a little better at her words. She was right. I did get through it. Not with all my dignity, but I still made it nonetheless. "I suppose."

Itsuko sent me a reassuring smile and linked her arm through mine as I went over to my desk. She plopped into the chair in front of it despite it not belonging to her and gabbed about potential plans once the school day was over. I listened attentively as I got my book and notes out, voicing my opinions on the optional hangout spots where we could go. The class was filling up quickly and the teacher was one of the last few to enter before sliding the door shut. The whole time, a short brown haired boy stood silently behind Itsuko, holding his bag close at his side, growing paler by Itsuko's obliviousness that she was in his seat.

I poked at her shoulder with my pencil and pointed with it at the boy a few times, but it did no good. Once Itsuko started talking, there was no stopping her.

"Matsuzaki, please go to your assigned seat," the teacher ordered tersely. That seemed to snap her out of it.

She blinked quickly, whipping her head around to gape at the teacher before turning to look at me with a big smile. She hopped up, waving once while she moved over only a mere row away where we could still see each other. When the teacher started talking, I flipped open my notebook to a fresh page and listened to the beginning lecture. Getting back into a curriculum swing almost made it feel like the incident hadn't happened at all. I could get on with my high school life and Ushijima was free to do what he normally did.

And if that was anything like I imagined, many more students would be rushed to the nurse's office on a stretcher.

* * *

There was a vending machine Itsuko loved to visit for a drink everyday before our lunch hour. It wasn't very far from the tables where we usually sat with other students, so it didn't take long for her to pop in a few coins, hit the button of her favorite beverage and retrieve it from the tray before we headed to the cafeteria. I already waited in line to pay for my lunch so I couldn't wait to sit down to finally eat; I was so nervous waking up that morning that I didn't have breakfast. The whole thing made me feel pretty stupid now. Itsuko was right; I did get myself worked up over nothing.

Two other girls were already seated when we came up and they both looked up from their bentos with a smile. The one with dark red hair, Terumi, looked like she brought too much for one person and was frowning at the contents as if wondering where she went wrong in her planning. When she turned away to leaf through her bag, the girl sitting next to her grabbed a handful of cherry tomatoes from the box, popped them in her mouth and pretended that her cheeks weren't puffed out three inches. She picked idly at her own food, gnawing at the treats stuffed in her mouth as Terumi faced her bento box again with a water bottle in hand. Noticing something off about the meal, the crinkle between her brows deepened while she stared hard at it.

I was already halfway through my lunch tray, finishing the last morsels of curry when a stampede of shoes thundered past the cafeteria doors and made a smoking path for our table at the far end of the room. A group of at least a dozen girls crowded around my seat, eyes wide with shock and intrigue.

A student with shiny black hair slapped her hands down on the table and leaned in close to my face. "How long have you been dating Ushijima Wakatoshi?!"

"When were you gonna tell us?" Another chimed in.

"We're friends, we're supposed to tell each other everything!"

"Do you always cook for him?"

"My boyfriend dorms in the same wing as him and said it smelled amazing. How come you never bring us food?"

I dropped my chopsticks with a clatter, heart pumping faster with anxiety at their jumble of questions. A few other students looked over their shoulders, eyebrows raised at the comical scene, but for the most part the rest of the student body minded their own business and finished eating their lunch. I was more than happy to note the boys' volleyball team table was one of them.

"Wait, wait, who said I was dating Ushijima?" I demanded and glanced quickly at Itsuko, but she looked just as perplexed as I felt. The corners of her lips were turned down around the white bendy straw of her juice box.

"Everyone!" A girl answered. "My roommate's lab partner told me her best friend's dorm neighbor's girlfriend said they saw you at Ushijima's door this morning. How long has this clandestine affair been going on?"

"Since never," I told them. "Look, I only brought him lunch because he hit me in the head with a volleyball during his practice on Friday and carried me to the nurse after. It was to thank him, not a love confession. You know, for helping me to the nurse... not for hitting me-" I trailed off uneasily when their blank faces refused to be convinced and looked away. "And who says we're friends? I barely even talk to some of you."

That made them take a step back and glance around sheepishly. They were quiet for a second as Itsuko slurped through her juice, hitting the bottom of the package. She was being uncharacteristically quiet.

"Sorry, Chihiro-san," a girl formally apologized. "We were just thinking you'd guys be kind of nice together. You know not too many people talk to Ushijima except his teammates."

"Yeah, we didn't mean to pry," a second voice piped in from the back. "It just really came as a surprise. It was obvious when the popular couples liked each other, so when we heard about the possibility of a secret relationship, we got kind of carried away."

 _You don't say_ , I thought. "It's fine. It'd just appreciate it if you wouldn't tell anyone about this. The last thing I need is some stupid rumor getting spread around." When I saw there was a few minutes left on the wall clock to lunch, I pushed away my tray and stood up. "I mean, if we're being honest here, Ushijima is someone I'd think twice about before even being friends with."

The girls nodded, some of their eyes even widened as physically stunned if by what I just said. Given Ushijima's good looks (it was a little easier for me to admit that now), I wouldn't have been surprised if he had many admirers like his fire haired teammate. I supposed he deserved them too, if all the positive things the school nurse said about him turned out to be true. I just hoped that his and my path wouldn't intercept again as it apparently couldn't do so without being violently armed.

I grabbed a hold of my tray and dropped it into the disposal bin before walking with Itsuko back to class. She was still sucking the last few drops of her apple juice, the weight of her hand crunching the now empty box.

She threw it in a passing trash can as we crossed the hall, the noise from the cafeteria becoming quieter the farther we went. Since the lunch hour began, Itsuko hadn't spoke much about the girls' proclamation. She was never one that fed into gossip or start a rumor of her own, but sometimes she paid a silent ear to whatever was being said and always talked about it with me afterwards. The difference now was that she wasn't saying anything. It worried me.

"Hey, Itsuko?" I said fearfully.

"What's up?"

"Be honest... do I look like I have a crush on Ushijima?"

"Huh?" She cocked her head at me. "Of course not! Why? Do you- do you like him now?" Her eyes suddenly went big.

"No!" I rebuked just as passionately. "It's just that if all those people thought we were dating, it makes me wonder if I came off a little strong."

"Chihiro-chan, if those idiots don't understand that a girl being polite to boy doesn't always mean she's in love with him then that's their problem!"

I studied her for a moment, blinking once slowly like I was conversing with someone wearing a blonde Itsuko wig and the real one was still back in the lunch room, hiding in the corner and digging in her pockets for more coins she could use on the vending machine. Her words, as loyal, sincere and inconsistent as they sounded made me feel more assured about the situation. I didn't know which was wilder: the fact that students were so quick with their imagination and assumed Ushijima and I somehow liked each other, or that Itusko was acting the role of adviser.

In hindsight, I wasn't lying when I told Itsuko Ushijima was nice. He was. But his dryness gave the impression that he didn't like to socialize very much unless he could help it. Maybe he did and just preferred to stick within his athletic social pool. That'd be understandable. There were honestly a group of students I preferred interacting with over others anyway, but it didn't mean I disliked them.

"Some people are so absorbed with romance," Itsuko remarked with a sigh.

I shot her an incriminating leer from the corner of my eye that she was also oblivious to. The peaceful upturned corners of her mouth felt disarmingly opposite from the sudden rash need to ram my head against the wall a few times, both from worry about the Ushijima thing and her sudden intake of elderly wisdom that I could have used a week ago.

It was nice to see people turning over new leaves, I guess.

* * *

"Hey, Chihiro-san, is it true Ushijima grew up on a farm?"

My head snapped up at the curious inquiry. A crowd of at least ten people surrounded the table where I currently sat alone with extra homework laid out in front of me. Itsuko was busy taking a Math quiz and my other friends were occupied in different sections of the school, leaving me with nothing but the company of assignments to catch up with. At least that was my plan until a small herd of students from every class came flocking to my table.

"Do you think he has experience with gardening? My mom's tomato plant keeps dying."

"Is he free on weekends? My grandpa has back problems and needs some help hoeing the fields."

"Can he bring one of his potted plants to my little sister's show and tell tomorrow?"

An additional dozen voices spoke over each other then, asking questions about the volleyball captain's life, requesting him to appear at random events and other things I didn't hear because the shock of the situation almost rendered me deaf. My eyes flickered from person to person, the volume of their voices growing louder and louder the more my head snapped around like a ragdoll's. Fear and panic built up in my chest like I was in protective custody and the darkness of the room prevented me from seeing everyone's face. Only I was sitting in broad daylight and these were my peers...

I snapped out of the daze then. "Stop!" I exclaimed, dropping my pencil with a frown. "Stop it!"

The noise switched off instantly. I took a deep breath, keeping perfectly still as a triad of birds flew overhead. No one said anything and it unnerved me because I was thoroughly expecting for them to crowd around closer, ignoring my pleas and just keep grilling for answers that I couldn't make up, even if I tried. I felt like an utter fool while they stood there gawking at me, their faces were blank, eyes wide with their arms hanging limp at their sides as if it were made of dish towel material. I took a deep breath and wiped my palms on my uniform skirt, hoping they wouldn't start talking at once again and cause another outburst. But they didn't say anything and just stared holes into my face.

"What are you guys talking about?" I asked at last. "Why would I ask Ushijima to do all this?"

"You're dating him, aren't you?" One of them said.

"What? No. Who told you that?"

A boy standing at the center glanced at the students at each side of him and shrugged. "Well... that's what everyone's saying."

My hands automatically curled into fists and a couple of faces flashed in my mind. "Like who?"

"This girl in my best friend's class said she overheard you telling someone at lunch that you wouldn't think twice about dating Ushijima."

That made my jaw drop. "Huh? I never said that."

"So you weren't talking to a group of girls in the cafeteria earlier?"

"Yeah, I was, but-"

"And you didn't bring Ushijima lunch?"

"No, I did that too-"

Then it hit me.

Oh, no... a misunderstanding. My conversation with those students hours ago about the Ushijima rumor evolved into another misconstruction and at that moment, I never wanted to dunk my into head the drinking fountain more. "I was telling them that I _would_ think twice before befriending Ushijima, not that I _would_ date him."

"Ohhhhhh," a couple students breathed at once. But the clarification broke before it could really set in. "But... but if you aren't together, why are you delivering him food?"

"Yeah, that's pretty hopelessly romantic of you," a girl piped in with a grin. "Did he like what you brought him?"

"Hey, can you bring some for us next time? It smelled great."

"Just admit it, Otonashi, you two are an item!"

"You don't have to carry on with this lie anymore, we're all happy for you, you know!"

The panic started building up again. The engrossing black shadows was now a blinding white light, filled with giddy young high schoolers with sparkles in their eyes, delirious off the prospect of a secret love on campus and the excitement of future events like wedding planning. And I was in the center of it. Me? That kind of role usually encased other girls like Itsuko and she handled them a lot better than me. Or maybe that was because it happened to her so many times she was used to it. I had to put an end to these ongoing strings of rumors once and for all, before a softball came for my forehead next.

I stood up abruptly and gathered my belongings in my school bag, ignoring everyone else. They resumed with their rapid fire questionnaires, not caring that I wasn't even answering them and just keeping asking one after another. Their voices trailed after me as I walked away from them, but their footsteps didn't follow.

One of their persistent inquiries echoed in my head and it made me stop in my tracks. "You'll have to find a bontanist or something," I said, looking back at the group. "I read his fact sheet. He's not a farm boy."

They all gaped at me, dumbfounded and stiff as paper dolls. I turned my back on them and marched away from the tables, growing angrier the farther I distanced myself away from the peanut gallery that somehow still found it in themselves to resume the conversation even after I walked away. I pondered waiting outside of Itsuko's class to tell her what happened, but that wouldn't be for another hour. Would she even be able to help me?

She was great to vent to when I needed her, but I wasn't sure if she'd be able to help me put a stop to the rumors. She might even inadvertently give them more reason to think Ushijima and I were together.

No...

I needed to talk to Ushijima himself.

* * *

Students and faculty members alike nearly jumped out of my path as I stormed a hot trail toward the place I knew any volleyball player would linger during the after hours of school. In retrospect, I supposed I didn't look like the picture of good graces since my feet stomped harder with each step and my curled fists swung stiffly at my sides. Frustration was an understatement to what I was feeling inside. I could have written an paper assignment about it and still had time to construct a new dictionary volume explaining how bad it was.

When I came up to the path that sectioned off toward the gymnasium and other complexes that housed belongings for the sport teams, no one was around except for a younger boy kneeling down in front of a black bag. He was filling it with empty water bottles.

"Excuse me?" I approached him. "Sorry for bothering you, but have you seen Ushijima Wakatoshi anywhere?"

"He's inside the gym," he replied, zipping up the bag and standing up. "He usually stays late after practice when everyone else has gone home."

I glanced over at the open door of the gymnasium and nodded back to the boy. "Thank you."

He slung the bag over his shoulder then and started off in the opposite direction, leaving me there to muster up courage and the right approach toward our escalating problem. It was very much his issue as it was mine. He might not have known about the rumors about or even cared... but as one half of this romantic fabrication, he was obligated to help me put a stop to it. His friends were majority of males; he had to have heard some trickle of gossip from time to time. Guys talked about those things too, didn't they? Just in a different manner from girls that made it seem forgettable. Maybe I should have spoken to a group of boys at lunch instead.

Sucking in a deep, steady breath, I walked calmly up the gym steps and peered inside. Ushijima was standing on the left side of the net, a large cart of volleyballs next to him as he readied one in his hands, tossed it up and smacked it at the other side of the net. I guessed he was working on his serve. From the way the ball smashed against the far side of the wall, he didn't need much practice. I thought I saw the ball deflate a little.

"Ushijima-san?"

His hands froze around another ball he was prepared to throw, elbows extended out a little and I realized how defined his arms were. I quickly looked up at his eyes and cleared my throat.

"I'm sorry for interrupting your practice," I added when he just stared at me. "But may I speak with you for a minute?"

"Of course," Ushijima said and placed the volleyball back inside the cart. Then he turned and gazed down at me.

I gulped under his full attention, hands squeezing around my book bag strap across my chest. "I won't keep you long. There was just something I, um... I wanted to discuss." I exhaled slowly as if it were my last one and started from the beginning. "So... do you remember the hayashi rice I gave you? Of course you remember, it was this morning- Anyways, someone saw me hand it to you and now apparently there's rumors spreading around about you... and me. They think we're... dating."

Ushijima was silent as a crypt throughout the whole explanation, his features calm and eyes gleaming with a sort of uninterest. Then slowly, he let out a prolonged breath. "I see."

"I know it sounds silly, but I just needed to talk to you. They keep asking me questions about you and I don't know what to tell them."

"Tell them the truth."

"I did, but they won't listen. I guess they think we're trying to keep it a secret or something." It dawned on me that if someone were to walk in right now it'd look like a couple of lovers quarreling over the fact that people were catching on to their affair. My face paled and I had the sudden need to flee the country.

Ushjima looked thoughtful for a moment, his brows pulled together slightly above the intensity of his light brown eyes. "That's fine."

"Huh?" I leaned back in astonishment. "It's... it's fine with you?"

"Yes."

"But why?"

"If they want to spend their time spreading mindless gossip, I don't care," his deep voice went. "It has no effect on me or how I play volleyball. It shouldn't for you either."

I stared down at the floor for a moment, near Ushijima's spotless white sneakers. "I suppose it doesn't."

"Is it really wise to listen to someone who has nothing better going on in their lives?"

Wow, I thought to myself. I hadn't even thought of it that way. Some guys had a nuanced perspective on friendships and the social scene in general, but he was the last person I expected to offer a piece of advice like that. "You're pretty smart for a volleyball player, Ushijima-san," I observed, breaking the silence.

"Hm?" Ushijima blinked once like he was stuck in a trance too. "Oh, thank you." He looked away then and I made a mental note of how cute he looked.

The thought made me almost twitch with shock. Was I really checking him out? I must have been sinking too low into those abyss of relationship rumors too. That or the heart Itsuko wore on her sleeve was starting to brush off on mine.

"Thank you very much for your time," I told him, readjusting the strap across my chest. "I think I better go now."

Ushijima nodded, still keeping polite eye contact and I turned away before he noticed the blush spreading on my cheeks.

And then I remembered something. "Oh, um, Ushijima-san?" I faced him again just in time to see him looking back at me, another volleyball gripped in his hand. I rummaged through the pockets of my school bag and took out a piece of paper and pencil, holding them close with mild hope. "May I have an autograph? For my little brother."

My heart skipped when Ushijima grabbed the pencil from my fingers, skin brushing against mine. The skinny stick of wood appeared ridiculously fragile under the weight of his large hand as he scribbled his name on the blank sheet of paper. They were nice looking, though. Big as baseball player's catchers mitt but not too rough at the pads of his fingers. I bet it felt even nicer to hold it.

The tiny smile that graced my lips fell dead when I realized I was ogling Ushijima again. I cleared my throat, hoping he wouldn't see my apparent discomfort and he didn't. He only finished writing his name and handed the paper back to me. I gave a small bow of my head before tucking it into my bag and returning to the school's main building.

My spirits were lifted and it wasn't because of the muscles in Ushijima's biceps.

* * *

That weekend when I returned home, I presented Koichi with Ushijima's signed autograph. His eyes lit up like a fire stove top and he practically floated around the house the rest of the day, on cloud nine. At the dinner table, he wouldn't stop gabbing to our parents about how jealous his school friends would be that he knew a volleyball superstar - or rather his older sister went to school with one. I didn't try to convince him that it wasn't true, that even though Ushijima was a peer we weren't bosom buddies and for the sake of my safety, it was better that way. His mood was more inflated than a birthday balloon and I didn't want to stick a pin in it.

I'd do that if he asked for a signed photo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I wrote Ushijima okay. He's kind of a stiff, but a good guy deep down so I hope it came out alright. Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this and I really appreciate the feedback everyone left. I think the next chapter will be a little longer and have more Ushijima in it.
> 
> I love you all
> 
> Thanks for reading! Hope everyone has a good start to the new year.


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